Beautiful Boy
by Danielle Anderson
Summary: “So I was right all along.” Spoilers for the series. Slight AU, character death, genderswap Raito/L


Title: Beautiful Boy  
Pairing: Raito/L (implied)  
Rating: PG  
Word Count: 1888  
Warnings: Slight AU, genderswitch, character death  
Disclaimer: I do not own _Death Note_ nor the lyrics of "Gorecki" by Lamb

If I should die this very moment,  
I wouldn't fear  
For I've never known completeness  
Like being here.  
Lamb, "Gorecki"

It shouldn't be like this.

_She_ shouldn't be like this.

She should be focusing solely on the Yotsuba share rises and surveillance tapes instead of looking from the corner of her eye at him, so tall and handsome (and...noble), intently bent over his work. She knows his expressions by heart now, like the rises and falls in a beautiful note of music (and he is beautiful), or a painting (what a work of art); when he is deep in thought, he leans back in a chair and rests his chin on his fist; when he is frustrated, he sighs, trying to be more patient (and L knows that she can be difficult to get along with); and when he is angry, twin flames flare up in those innocent, cinnamon eyes – his jaw tightens, his fists clench, and he stares so _intensely_ that it's like he's looking into your soul.

"Ryuuzaki," he says suddenly, and she nearly flinches, startled out of a daze, as though she'd been abruptly plunged _out_ of a cool, tranquil pool of water. She is almost afraid to look at him – maybe he'll see the color in her pale cheeks and wonder what's wrong – and so, she keeps looking at the computer screen.

"Yes?" she mumbles, seemingly uninterested.

"Take a look at this," he points a finger at his own monitor.

She must've lost a few IQ points because she thinks, for a foolish moment, that he wants her to look at his finger (which she would gladly do anyway). But what he wants her to see is a news report on the mysterious death of yet another Yotsuba group competitor and another rise in their shares. She reads the information with a straight face. Nods like a schoolteacher pleased with her student's work. Tries not to let her breath catch when Raito leans in over her shoulder, staring at the screen (he's so close that she can smell his scene – no, not his cologne, just his scent, his _essence_).

"We're close," he said. "I can almost feel it."

His sweet breath falls gently on her collarbones and all she can do is nod.  


* * *

  
Misa is a parrot with her bright colours, high voice and chirpy nature. She may dress like a goth princess but L rather meanly think that the young model is a character straight out of a Jane Austen novel.

(Not Elizabeth Bennet or Fanny Price. Maybe someone more intolerable like Augusta Leigh.)

L sits beside Raito, perched like a bird and sips her tea. (How ironic that Jane Austen came to her mind.) Misa does nothing to hide her dislike of the dark-eyed detective; she does not miss chances to cast narrow-eyed glares or snide insults (_oh, please, does she think she's smart?_) like, "Ryuuzaki, you really should get your own life." _Raito and I don't like you trespassing on our dates._

Ah, L sees where she is going with this. In Misa's mind, this is a room in a fairy tale castle where she is the princess and Raito is the prince, and L is the wicked witch of the west come to steal the younger woman's boyfriend.

"I've told you countless times, Misa-san," she drawls, a bored witch with her sight on a higher prize than the prince.

Or rather, she does want the prince. Just in a different way.

"I'm not doing this because I enjoy it."

"Whatever." Misa rolls those pretty blue eyes and leans back, crossing her arms and legs, looking very cross.

Raito at L's side is unexpectedly looking amused. She remembers Matsuda once commenting that Raito was such a lucky man.

"Some men have two women and others have none."

L is not Raito's woman (but she fantasies that both she and Misa could be – only Raito would prefer her more) and if she had him, she would not share him with anyone, especially this chit of a girl, shallow and irritating. And Raito is still gazing at her with amusement.

"Is there any reason Raito-kun is looking at me with so much interest?" she wonders suspiciously, dropping another sugar cube in her cup.

"Not really," he shakes his head, but his mouth is twitching like he's trying to fight back a smile. Or stop himself from laughing. "It's just that...you got a little whipped cream on your nose." He taps the tip of his own.

L blinks. A flush stains her fine, pale, delicate features as she lifts a hand to wipe away the offending substance.

On the other side of the room, Misa watches this exchange, her eyes feline slits. L thinks that the model would grab the chance to mock her, but she just keeps glaring at the detective like a bug that must be squashed.

A threat.

Maybe Misa isn't as dumb as she thought.  


* * *

  
"It's been a tiring day," Raito remarks casually like a husband who has been toiling all day. He pulls out his shirt from his pants, slides off his belt, unwinding for comfort.

L crouches on the bed beside the pillows and watches him, face as blank as a pickpocket's. She has already memorised these practiced movements, like a real wife, so much time she has spent on drinking in the beautiful light of his cinnamon eyes, the shape of his lean arms. She wishes sometimes that she could handing him like an ornament in her dark room at Wammy's House, a private art piece that is only hers to enjoy.

"Raito-kun shouldn't be so tired when he has simply been sitting all day," she teases. They have been taking small liberties with each other as of late, like a true husband and wife, aware of each other's idiosyncrasies and habits, knowing how handle them.

"I'm sorry, I just don't have enough stamina like you, Ryuuzaki," the young man replies drily. "I get tired easily."

She hides a smile at the sexual innuendo.

She lays down. Raito turns off the light and takes a deep breath as he settles beside her. The bed dipping under his weight has become a sweet familiarity to her, something that she looks forward to every night, first daybreak after a storm.

"Are you excited?" she asks softly. Maybe he glances at her; she can't tell in the dark.

(But Higuchi's capture is nearing at an alarming rate and they will soon go their separate ways. Unless Raito really is Kira.)

"Yes," he murmurs.

She nods. She is about to curl up in a cocoon when he lays his hand on hers.  


* * *

  
"You should come work for me when this is over."

Raito rolls over on the bed to lie on his stomach, the chain between them jingling like a windchime.

"Are you serious?"

L nods against the pillow, wide-eyed. Her hand rests on her pale, flat stomach, the image of an expecting mother.

_I want you as husband and father._

"I know Raito-kun wants to be a detective very much," she says softly, her voice almost a whisper. "And I'm not inclined to take apprentices – but in his case, I would gladly make an exception."

The young man's eyes are on the silver cuffs around his handsome wrist; it becomes him in a most peculiar manner, giving L the illusion that he belongs to her and she can hold on to him as long as she likes.

(But it will be over soon.)

"An apprentice, huh?" he says thoughtfully, weighing the pros and cons of the offer.

"Of the best detective in the world," she throws in a dash of humor, earning a boyish grin from him.

"Your offer sounds very tempting," he admits coyly.

She smiles. "I'm glad."

"I'll think about it."

They say nothing after that, and are quiet together in their own special ways.  


* * *

  
Something in Raito has changed that night. He looks the same, walks the same, talks the same, but the very essence that is _him_ is somehow diminished. A dark cloud has appeared and passed over, altering him.

L watches him again from the corner of her eye at where he stands, his perfect face marred by the glass steps.

(It's like he's become a different person.)

She sees it clearly but she can't tell what it is.  


* * *

  
"Have you reached a decision?" L asks him.

They have to speak in corridors now, like lovers forbidden to each other. Ever since the handcuffs came off, he has grown distant towards her. Sometimes she thinks that he is avoiding her on purpose.

(And there is still the chilling change in him that looms over her like a death bell.)

"About what?" he acts as if he doesn't know what she's talking about it. Then, "I haven't had time."

She nods. "That's understandable."

But what exactly about this is understandable?

L's conscience pricks her. She's spent every waking moment of her life for the past year, trying to catch Raito Yagami, the boy she _knows_ is Kira, but has no evidence against. There would be nothing wise about bringing him under her wings.

And besides, it'll all be over soon, won't it?

Raito looks at her, and she looks back, gaze silent and accusing, desperately searching for an explanation.

Then he steps away. "I have to go now. Misa is waiting for me."

And he said that he was in no mood for romance.  


* * *

  
Before L, the white demon stands tall and looks at her with a touch of sympathy that she doesn't know what's actually going on.  


* * *

  
And so, it is finally done.

All the events unfold before her eyes like a red rose blooming – or maybe those are just the emergency lights after the power failure.

"Everyone!" she cried out just moment ago. "The reaper is -"

Then a sharp pain in her heart.

She fell – slowly, second by second, like it'd never stop, and in the back of her mind, she was waiting to hit the cold hard floor, as if she already knew her fate.

Instead, her fall is broken when Raito rushes forward and catches her in his arms.

(Perhaps he did shout out her name.)

_So you were there to catch me when I fell._

Now, she lies helplessly in his awkward embrace, her head resting against his chest. Her obsidian eyes are wide open, for she is finally _seeing_. How unfortunate that the truth has been revealed to her in the eleventh hour and she can do nothing about it.

Raito holds her, looking so aghast (you'd think he was never in on this). And then, much to the detective's horror, his expression of shock willingly melts away into something entirely different.

A wicked smile of triumph.

_So I was right all along._

So this is how it ends. All that effort and perspiration, sleepless nights, thorough investigations, only to die in the arms of her enemy, this monster with the face of a beautiful boy who has so cleverly deceived everyone.

But she tried. Oh, she tried.

And now, her heart's stopping and it's time to say goodbye to the world, to everything – every_one_ – she cared about. She takes one last look at the man she has loved for so long (she can finally admit it) before her eyes close forever, leaving her with only one thought.

_Human effort is futile._


End file.
